


Unsuitable

by spittingfeathers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, WIP, marking as done for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spittingfeathers/pseuds/spittingfeathers
Summary: Sansa Stark isn't fit to lead the company, or so the Board says. Luckily her Lawyer has found a loophole - marriage to the right man with the right experience and it can all be hers again! Piece of cake...
Relationships: Stannis Baratheon/Sansa Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 115





	Unsuitable

**Author's Note:**

> Another baby from my drafts I really shouldn't be posting to get your hopes up...but I had to gift you all a little something for Valentines! Real life is crazy right now, here's hoping I can snatch some time to write soon!

It felt as though she was trying to run through quicksand. The harder she struggled, the more she sank. Sansa shook her head to clear it, a lock of hair fell from her bun to hang by her ear. “There’s no one—please, Petyr…” she looked at her friend, desperate for the answer they knew he couldn’t give.

_Stupid old biddies._

_Stupid fucking law._

_Stupid fucking patriarchy._

“Are you sure there’s no other way—” her voice broke on the last word and Sansa breathed in sharply to keep the tears at bay. She wouldn’t cry. She _wouldn’t_.

Petyr looked grim. “I’m afraid not. You know it too, Sansa.” He said, sadly.

She did, and now, it was over. Sansa nodded tightly and shuffled the papers on Petyr’s desk before clenching her shaking hands together, wishing they’d _stop_.

“You know I’m only a call away. If there’s _anything_ I can do…”

Sansa blinked and stared at the hand covering hers. His skin was hot, like a brand against her suddenly bloodless fingers, pressing heat into her skin. All sound seemed to take on a buzzing quality and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool.

“I…I need to think about this.” She pulled her hands back and pushed herself from the chair. As she reached for her bag she missed the look of exasperation on his face.

Sansa straightened and gripped the strap tighter. This was a mess. A big, big mess.

“I just need some time.”

Petyr got to his feet in one swift move, looking as dejected as she felt, and placed a hand on the small of her back as he guided her to the door.

“I’ve been friends with you for a long time Sansa, I’m sure your mother would be glad to know that I’m here for you.” He gave her one of his concerned looks and said, “Don’t be afraid to ask me for anything.” She knew he meant it but the sensation in her stomach, panic and fear and overall loneliness, tried to convince her otherwise.

“Don’t worry. I will.”

Petyr’s lips twitched in a grim smile, he seemed to know it too. “Come see me on the twentieth and we can go from there. Rest assured I’ll do everything I can to make sure Stark Industries stays in the right hands.”

Sansa forced back the bile in her throat and nodded, allowing him to walk her to the exit, waving to Ros who worked the reception. She knew she must look like a ghost. Nights and days stuck up in her office had left her paler than she’d ever been before - and the stress - it was a wonder she hadn’t turned completely grey. “Thank you, Petyr.” She said when he opened the door for her, praying that her calm would see her through at least until she got to her car. “I’ll see you soon.”

“On the twentieth.” He reminded her.

“Of course,” she nodded, and headed toward her car.

*****

The urge to cry had built up as soon as she was out of sight of the Mockingbird Business Park but she held off, forcing her tears down through sheer will. She had the shopping to do, washing and ironing to sort out when she got home and would have just enough time to clean before she had to go and pick up her siblings from Jeyne.

Sansa only made it through the first item on her to do list. Then she was crying. Swiping angrily at her eyes as the road blurred in front of her — the urge to sob was building, surging up inside her like a wave that compressed her throat and made her ears ring with the pressure.

She slowed down, just because she couldn’t _see_ through the tears and as soon as she could pulled over turning on her hazard lights.

It was a wonder she hadn’t caused an accident.

Sansa sobbed loudly in the car, letting all the stress and sorrow pour out of her, hoping that if she had a good cry now she’d be able to keep it together in front of her family. She didn’t know how long she cried, only that she’d come close to having one of those awful panic attacks.

Gods she needed to get a grip!

As the eldest, and her younger siblings’ legal guardian, she had to shoulder the responsibility, the work, the worry. She didn’t want to disrupt their chances of getting good grades on their exams or worrying about her. After all they’d gone through in the last few years they needed stability and she was the only one who could give it to them.

Sansa sucked in a painful breath, forcing it into her lungs and willed away the spots in her eyes. Still she could hardly believe it, all her hard work gone up in smoke and now she was going to be forced to give up the company due to those money-grabbing, backwards, sons of bitches who—

A sharp rapping on her window made her jump and she turned sharply to see an officer standing there. Sansa sniffed and quickly patted down her face taking a few unsteady breaths before she wound down the window. She looked out to see none other than Stannis Baratheon, who from the frown on his face hadn’t recognised her. She looked very different from the last time they’d met, when she’d been healthier and less worn.

Sansa didn’t know why but the sight of him made her want to weep in relief but it did. They’d become friends after the death of her parents and eldest brother. She wouldn’t have been able to fight the initial claims of suitability without him, nor realise that the death of her family may not have been some cruel twist of fate.

“If there’s nothing wrong with your car you need to get going, otherwise I will have to take you down to the station and—“

“Stannis!” she choked on his name and immediately felt embarrassed at the state she was in.

He paused, blinked and seemed to draw in on himself as he observed her reddened eyes and tearstained cheeks.

“Miss Stark.” There was a pause as they took one another in, and she was quite possibly showing every bit of hope and relief she felt at the sight of him. “You should go home before you get a ticket — it is illegal to park here if there is nothing wrong with your car. I will not be lenient because we know one another…” He spoke, as always, in his blunt matter-of-fact way and though he was clearly less than pleased to see her she was quite the opposite.

To Sansa’s total mortification she burst into tears.

“And tears shall not move me either—” Stannis said quickly, looking for all the world as though he’d rather step backwards into the traffic than see her cry.

Through her tears she saw the look of utter horror on his face and managed to snort out an apology. Though Sansa was considered a great beauty, she was, to her despair, a very ugly crier.

“I’m not t-trying t-to make you—sorry—I just—“

“Clearly this is a personal matter. I must advise you not to drive if you are in a state of distress. It not only puts your own life in danger but those of others on the road as well.” He said sternly looking more uncomfortable by the moment.

“You’d be distressed too if someone tried to take your company from you” Sansa choked, only realising just _what_ she’d said and to _whom_ she’d said it, after it was too late. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“Who?” he cut her off sharply. His expression darkening to the deepest of frowns and a barely concealed rage that she’d only ever seen once before in their relatively short acquaintance.

The look on his face was burning in its intensity, and knowing that he understood what she was going through, the whole story was spilling from her lips before she knew it. Despite how hardworking and determined she was, Sansa had been deemed unsuitable to run Stark Industries. She was _too young, flighty and inexperienced_ to run the company made and built by her grandfather and father before him. That, and she was a woman.

Stannis’ face was hard, eyes turning stormy as he listened to her tale of woe.

“I’m s-sorry for unloading all this on you.” Sansa sniffed, pressing her cold fingers to her closed eyes and feeling them burn against her skin. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, and if they did they would be constantly asking questions and insisting they help with something that was out of their depth.

“Do you have a lawyer?” Stannis asked tightly, “there might have been something they’ve missed—“

They had gone over everything, and they _had_ found a solution, unfortunately it was not an easy fix. Sansa sighed. “We’ve found a loophole but…”

“But what?”

She looked up at him, blotchy face and bitter smile as she answered. “Oh you know, the usual assumption that women are not responsible or suitable for positions of power and so have to have a man behind them to pull the strings.”

Luckily Sansa didn’t need to spell it out and Stannis understood immediately. He looked livid. “Is there anyone you could call who could assist you?”

Sansa heard him grind his teeth when she shook her head - she couldn’t marry _Jeyne_.

It was one of those old laws that no one ever paid attention to anymore but served as a suitable loophole…if she could find someone the board deemed suitable.

The only way she would get to keep control of the assets were if she was married.

Without the profits from Stark Industries and her parents Will still frozen by the courts while the investigation went on, she could loose Winterfell too and then she, Rickon, Arya and Bran would be tossed out onto the streets with nowhere else to go. Jon wouldn’t be able to help all four of them, though she knows he would try, it wouldn’t be fair to ask her cousin when he had so much on his plate already.

Stannis must have seen how wretched she looked because it seemed he was no longer going to arrest her for parking illegally.

“Where do you live?” He asked.

“On Riverside, in the apartments while we wait for forensics to finish up at Winterfell. Why?”

Stannis shook his head. “Wait here. I’ll only be a moment.” He strode back to his car and was indeed back a moment later.

“Get in the passenger seat.” He said as he opened her door. “You’re not fit to drive home.”

Sansa might have protested if she didn’t feel so utterly wretched but instead got out of the car, letting her hand brush his upper arm in thanks as she moved to the passenger door and got in.

“What about your car?” Sansa asked as they began to drive away.

“Davos is taking it back to the station.” Stannis answered briskly as they moved swiftly down the street.

They spoke little on the journey home other than for Stannis to ask or suggest other options, his face becoming more grim and tight when she explained all the routes and outcomes of each attempt to keep the company in the Stark family had been exhausted. Soon enough they were at her King’s Landing apartment. Arya and Bran were out with friends and Rickon was being babysat by Jeyne who often looked after her siblings when Sansa was at work.

She managed to persuade Stannis into staying for lunch, if only to say thank you for driving her home and helping her with the shopping.

“My lawyer said if I were married it wouldn’t be a problem. Some old loophole that says a woman can inherit if she’s married. As if being married would make me any more suitable for a position that I’ve been working toward for years. I’m twenty-eight for gods sake! This wouldn’t have been a problem if Robb was here…”

“If that is _truly_ the only way, is there no one who would help you?” Stannis asked, making sure he had left no crumbs anywhere other than his plate.

Sansa looked at him grimly. “Oh yes I have men falling all over me—all desperate for my money” Stannis seemed very uncomfortable. “I need someone who won’t balk at the fact I’m only marrying them to keep what little control I have, who won’t mind that the marriage is a sham and at the end of it, after a suitable period has passed and Stark Industries is back in my hands where it belongs, we’ll say goodbye and go our separate ways…”

“What of your cousin Jon — Lyanna’s boy. Could he not inherit?”

“He’s stationed at the wall and in line for Lord Commander when Mormont retires. He’s been waiting for something like this all his life and I won’t take it away from him now, not when he’s worked so hard to get there. I know what _that’s_ like.” Sansa was silent for a moment, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “In any case, while he’s on active duty he can’t really take part in ‘matters of the realm’. Inheriting a company while being bound by the Night’s Watch is a big no-no. Anything other than 100% loyalty to the Wall results in immediate dismissal.”

Stannis nodded along though his frown remained. “And what of your younger brothers?”

Sansa shook her head. “Both are too young, which would leave me in charge till they came of age. It still presents the same problem that I’m going to be the one in control. Arya would have the same difficulties as me.” She huffed and picked up their plates to put them on the side, beginning to wash up the mountain that was there. Stannis appeared at her side a moment later and she tried to protest when he picked up a dishcloth and began to dry.

“It’ll be faster if I help,” he said, not to be dissuaded. “What of your father’s old ward, Theon Greyjoy? Surely you could count on him to assist?”

“Theon? He’s a good friend, but no.” Sansa raised a brow and muffled a laugh. “Asking Theon to remain friends if we were married would be like trying to stop the sun from setting, plus he’s got a taste for the finer things and I doubt any money I had would last long after what’s ‘yours is mine’ was spoken. The marriage would likely be unacceptable to the board in any case, Theon has little sense of responsibility and no experience whatsoever.”

Stannis paused. “Are there seriously no young men whom you could ask?”

Sansa scoffed, “None that would simply expect to be friends on getting married, acting the couple and then going our separate ways once the deal is done. I can’t imagine anyone who would be content with their spouse working all the time, trying to drag Stark industries out of the toilet rather than spending time with them and being seen in society.” Sansa sighed and began putting the clean plates and cutlery away in the cupboards and drawers. “Anyway, most have no industry experience at all and have no idea about running a company—“ she paused halfway between putting a dish in the cupboard, the rest of the sentence frozen on her lips. A heavy tension filled the room as she turned to Stannis.

“Sansa?” He said. “Is something wrong?”

“You.”

He was understandably confused as she put the plate on the side with a clunk and took a step toward him.

“You!” Her face seemed to brighten as she looked at him. “You have industry experience—you RAN Storm’s End for years!”

For all that was said about Stannis Baratheon, the man was smart, and so he cottoned on very quickly.

He looked at Sansa as though she was mad. “Sansa, you’re not thinking straight. You’ve had a very stressful time—“

“No it’s perfect, Stannis!”

“It’s a terrible idea!” Stannis protested.

Sansa had taken three steps to cross the small kitchen and grabbed his arms in her hands. “No—listen!” she said in an excited, breathless voice. “Marry me. Do your own thing and I’ll be able to get Stark Industries back. We’re friends aren’t we? AND your credentials are _perfect_ —hell I’ll even pay you!”

Stannis flew wide, scandalised. “What do you take me for? Some kind of—of giggolo!”

Sansa laughed a little madly, “Do you _not_ want me to pay you?” she fluttered her eyelashes and stannis blanched. There was a 14 year difference between them! How could that be acceptable to her - even if it was just acting the part!

Blind, or simply in denial of Stannis’ inner turmoil she continued to plead her case, managing to sound rather convincing.

“—As soon as I get Stark Industries back I’ll pay you. You could have enough to leave the force, travel if you like. Maybe meet a nice girl in Dorne and have a lot of crazy sex, I don’t know!”

Stannis backed up until he felt the counter at his back. This conversation had suddenly turned far too personal. “You’d be better off marrying Greyjoy — it’d be obvious that the reason you’d marry me would be for the loophole. They’d call it out and you’d be thrown in the Black Cells, and then you’d say goodbye to ever getting your company back—I won’t be the reason you lose it.”

“But Stannis, you could help me, you fit all my criteria and Storms End is—“

“Storm’s End doesn’t even belong to me anymore!” he snapped. “I know what it’s like to lose something you worked so hard on, and I will help if you need me to when you get it back, but I can’t help you in this. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Stannis wait!” she cried, dashing forward as he picked up his things and headed for the door in several long strides. “Stannis—Stannis! I’ll get it back for you!”

Sansa felt a spark of hope flare in her chest as he stopped. His hesitation was obvious and Sansa knew she had him.

“Marry me and I’ll get Storm’s End for you. Consider it an engagement present — or a divorce present!” Stannis didn’t turn to look at her. “Just think about it? Please?”

Stannis grit his teeth, voice rough and angry. “You’re out of your mind.” He said.

Then, without another word, he left.


End file.
